Sonne
by NostalgicSchemer
Summary: When he found what he was looking for—a large box of wooden matches—he laughed, the sound a note or two below the singer's own words. Mentioned AustriaxHungary. Dark, death, human names used, Second person POV


NS: So, as a warning, there is a bunch of dark themes here. Also, the song is _Sonne_ by Rammstein. The only reason it is in the fic is because that was what I was listening to. By all means, the words have nothing to do with the fic. I hope that it doesn't offend anyone.

The auditorium was eerily silent, not that it wasn't when no one was present. But there was someone present. Loud bass began to sound from the speakers as he stood on the stage, the lights out. He wouldn't need them. The play had ended hours ago, and props were still leaning against scenery or offstage altogether. A smirk graced his lips as his eyes became dangerous, the opening words counting down his movements.

_Eins, zwei, drei, fünf_

He looked over at the supplies he had brought with him. A few gallons of gasoline, matches, knives, and a mirror. He turned and began rummaging through them, locating the gas can first.

_Sechs, seiben, acht, neun, Aus_

His movements were somewhat slow, as if the song was commanding that he took his time, and he grabbed the gasoline and began dousing the stage with the foul-smelling liquid. He began singing along, his voice so much rougher than the actual singer's. His eyes flickered over to where you lay, watching the way your chest was still. There was a dark discoloration around around your neck, the only color on your skin. He smirked, eyes only getting darker, more sinister.

_Alle warten auf das Licht_

His movements became a bit faster, the words of the song his only drive. He walked over to your body and produced a bottle of smelling salts. Your eyes slowly opened, only to widen when you saw him. Familiarity flickered through your eyes.

_Fürchtet euch fürchtet euch nicht_

His smirk only widened as he looked at you, and you tried to move back. You were painfully aware of what he would and could do to you. You were also aware of the cold floor beneath you, now soaked in gasoline, and you opened your mouth to scream, but no sound could come out. He had taken care of that by crushing your voice box earlier.

_Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Augen_

He grabbed your arm and twisted it as you tried to scramble away from him. Your face screwed up in pain but knew it would be impossible to stop him. His smirk only became darker. You hated him when he was like this; it scared you. You could normally overlook it but...

_Sie wird heute Nacht nicht untergehen _

Your mouth parted, this time in a mix of pain and pleasure as he grabbed your breast and squeezed, leaving bruises on the skin. It was then you realized how exposed you were to his eyes. Not that it was anything new. Whenever he got crazed, he'd lash out at you.

_Und die Welt zählt laut bis zehn _

He suddenly withdrew and tossed you into a larger puddle of gasoline, not caring that you were silently screaming at the pain of the liquid on your body. His eyes grew cold as he looked over at the mirror, as well as the few other bodies he had brought with him. All were in varying degrees of decay, skin rotting away, bones exposed.

_Eins  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

He strolled over to the bodies and picked up one carefully, as if it were still alive. You shuddered in horror as you watched. You recognized the body, that of one Francis Bonnefoy, one of his 'friends' as he had claimed. The blond was a few weeks dead and covered in dirt, as if he had been buried once before. He had gone missing during the summer, and now you knew why.

_Zwei  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

The crazed teenager propped the dead blond up in one of the front seats, body arranged as if he were looking at the stage. Producing a mirror with a pale hand, the teen broke two pieces off of it, shoving them into the eye sockets of the Frenchman's corpse. Seeming satisfied with his work, he set the mirror on the lip of the stage.

_Drei  
Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen _

He went backstage again, and you tried to push yourself up, the need to flee very nearly paralyzing you. He brought out another body, female this time, her long brown hair falling as a curtain off the side of her head... Or what was left of it. He set the body next to the first, arranging it almost lovingly. You could see his eyes flicker with some unknown emotion. Regret maybe? It was gone before you could identify it. You heard a word fall from his lips—the first that wasn't part of the hellish-sounding song playing over the speaker system. "Elizabeta..."

_Vier  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

He grabbed the mirror chunk and broke two more pieces off, shoving them into the sockets. He leaned forward, kissing the skull's teeth, as the lips had decayed away and you resisted the urge to throw up. He pulled away and returned. Noticing your half attempt to crawl away, he strolled over, brandishing a rusted dagger. Without rhyme or reason, he sent it flying from his fist into your hand. Pain tore through you at that action and tears flooded down your cheeks.

_Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Händen _

Satisfied, he smirked at you and walked back to offstage right, where the bodies were held. You tried to tug at the knife, but each small movement only sent more pained waves washing over you. You looked up when you heard footsteps, signaling he was returning. He brought out another man this time and you felt you knew him as well... Maybe not directly, but you knew him... Roderich.

_Kann verbrennen kann euch blenden _

This body was placed with less care than the one proceeding it, as if he had had a grudge against the man. In the faint light, most likely coming from one of the windows, you saw the glint of a wedding band on the man's finger, a matching one on Elizabeta's, and it clicked into place. The mirror pieces were again shoved into place, without care, and he walked back up onto the stage.

_Wenn sie aus den Fäusten bricht _

Every one of his movements were slow, deliberate—the devil's bidding. It was a strange concept that the man who had once been an adamant believer was doing such unholy acts. He glanced backstage to the last body. He went back and grabbed it, slowly dragging it out. It was that of his other friend, you were certain, even though it was decayed beyond most recognition. He placed it beside the former pianist and inserted the glass into his eyes.

_Legt sich heiss auf das Gesicht _

He stood back and looked at the four bodies. You were sure he was admiring his work. With a silent grunt, you tore your hand free of the blade, mouth opening in a scream of pain as your hand was ripped in half from your movement. You gripped at your wrist, tears falling faster.

_Sie wird heute nacht nicht untergehen _

He turned back towards the stage and clicked his tongue at you. Slowly, he came up the stairs. His own hands were cut, but he didn't seem to feel the pain. You doubted he could feel anything but glee at the moment—glee or sadistic pleasure.

_Und die Welt zählt laut bis zehn _

He walked over to you, his boots tapping lightly on the wood, and sloshing drying gasoline around. He didn't seem to care—it would burn all the same. His lips curled upwards at the thought. Oh yes, the fire would blaze...

_Eins  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you flush against him, his bloody hands painting patterns on your naked body as he ravaged your lips with his. You tried to push him away, silently crying out in pain each time you moved your injured hand.

_Zwei  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hand with malicious intent. "Looks like you need that fixed," he said, voice sounding caring. You shuddered in fear, mouth opening in another unheard scream as he gripped the two fingers that were holding on by mere muscle and skin. He pulled slowly, watching your eyes widen. Agonizing minutes passed as he slowly tore the flesh, watching in fascination as blood poured steadily down to puddle on the ground. Finally, the fingers were torn off and you tried to pull your hand back from him. He allowed it for now.

_Drei  
Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen _

You felt your blood run cold as you looked up from your hand and to his eyes. He moved suddenly, pressing you down into the floor. Pinning your hands above your head, he straddled your waist, ignoring your flailing legs. He chuckled darkly, gripping your amputated fingers in his hand. He trailed the tips of them down your face and you shuddered. He pressed them to your lips and you clenched your jaw to keep your mouth closed.

_Vier  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

His nostrils flared at that. "Open your mouth and suck," he commanded. You sobbed, lips parting slightly, and he shoved them into your mouth, forcing you to taste your blood. You did as you were told, wondering what you had done to get this treatment. He smirked and pulled them out moments later, only to move and shove them into your sex, not caring that you were getting scraped up by your own nails. He removed them, only to repeat the action until the blood ran freely.

_Fünf  
Hier kommt die Sonne_

Pulling the digits away, he smirked at you, using your own blood to paint on your body, mostly words that were unreadable. "It's a shame I have to take you like this..." he muttered as he moved down, tossing your fingers away. The sounds of his belt and zipper being undone were heard over the music, or that was what it seemed to you. Without caring, he thrust into you, finding his own release in that action alone. He pulled back out just seconds later, watching the white mix with red. Tucking himself away, he walked over to the pile of supplies.

_Sechs  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

When he found what he was looking for—a large box of wooden matches—he laughed, the sound a note or two below the singer's own words. You lost count of how many times it had played, just wanting the torture to end.

_Sieben  
Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen _

He flicked his thumb over the head of the match, watching the flame for a few seconds. He leaned down and pressed it to the stage, fascinated as it made its way down the stairs and to the four bodies in the front row. He laughed as the flames came closer to the stage, which quickly lit up in a hellish blaze.

_Acht, neun  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

His laughter sped up, getting almost hysterical as the air filled with smoke, the smells of burning skin and wood layered on top of one another. You coughed, curling up as the flames made their way to your body, silent screams leaving you as you burned.

_Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Händen_

You sat up in your bed, soaked with sweat. You looked around, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what had happened. When your eyes fell on your blaring alarm clock, you yelped, only to scramble to get ready for school.

_Kann verbrennen, kann dich blenden _

When you arrived to the school, you were jumpy, flinching away from everyone. That nightmare, if you would call it that, had done more than just scare you. It had made you apprehensive to be out of your house, but you couldn't afford to miss the test in class today.

_Wenn sie aus den Fäusten bricht _

You froze when you heard familiar laughter and slowly turned on your heel. There stood Gilbert with his two friends, Antonio and Francis. The three of them seemed to be having a grand time trying to convince Roderich into something. Despite your better judgment, you walked over.

_Legt sich heiss auf dein Gesicht _

"Aw, c'mon, Roddy! It'll be fun! Besides, no one will know we're there!" Gilbert tried to reason with the pianist, whose eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"All the more reason not to go," he said as his wife came up and took his hand happily. No one had ever questioned the relationship before as it had been explained that it was arranged by their parents.

_Legt sich schmerzend auf die Brust_

"What is he trying to get you to do now, Roderich?" Elizabeta asked. The five of them hadn't noticed you, and you wanted to keep it that way.

"To stay behind after the play tonight and drink with him and his ruffian friends," he said, though he nodded to Francis and Antonio in a way that meant he apologized for the insult. The two brushed it off either way.

Elizabeta laughed softly. "Why not? It's not like anyone would find out if we clean up our mess," she said.

A groan came from the usually composed man. "Not you too!"

_Das Gleichgewicht wird zum Verlust_

Red eyes caught your attention, and while they were free of malice, they made you freeze in terror. Gilbert slowly strolled over with the same movements from your dream, and again you were paralyzed. He smirked slowly. "You gonna come with us?" he asked.

_Lässt dich hart zu Boden gehen_

You rapidly shook your head, and he sighed dramatically. "It's a shame," he said as he watched you. He looked back to the group behind him, boredom clearly evident in his eyes. "It won't be a party without you," he said, eyes coming back to rest on your form.

_Und die Welt zählt laut bis zehn _

You shook your head as you slowly backed away, able to kick start your motions. Your dream was just so vivid, you didn't know what to think about it. Instead, you turned and ran off to class.

_Eins  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

Hours after the play, you found yourself outside the auditorium. Your eyes were blank as you listened to the sounds of laughter and poorly played Mozart emanating from the building. Your hand twitched as you gripped the plastic can in your hand.

_Zwei  
Hier kommt die Sonne_

I have to do this, you reasoned with yourself as you began spraying the gasoline on the front. You entered the building, using the back door that would take you backstage. The smell of alcohol hit you strongly, and you frowned as you poured a steady trail of gasoline back outside.

_Drei  
Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen_

You looked up when the can ran empty, only to grab the second one you had. It was a meticulous process, but you did it regardless. You poured more gasoline towards the front where you had clear view of the stage through the opened auditorium doors.

_Vier  
Und wird nie vom Himmel fallen _

You heard your name being called by the people inside, all of them drunk and laughing. You didn't respond as you simply watched them blankly. Your name was called again, as well as exclamations of worry.

_Fünf  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

Dropping the plastic can, you dug into your pocket. They're all sinners, you thought, I'm saving them by doing this. You pulled out a wooden match and flicked it with your thumb, eyes turning to the flame in your hand. It flickered. The people inside had returned to their game, though you didn't know what it was. You could care less.

_Sechs  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

You watched the flame for a few seconds before you dropped it. It lit the gasoline trail immediately, working its way around the building. You turned your attention to the stage, waiting calmly. Soon enough, you could see the flames licking at the scenery and the props. The teens inside dropped their drinks, only soaking more of the floor, and causing the flames to begin to lick at them.

_Sieben  
Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen _

You watched, but didn't move, as they began screaming your name for help, wanting you to call the fire department. Instead, you stared, almost lifelessly, through the glass as the flames of 'salvation' licked at their flesh, blood running down their bodies.

_Acht, neun  
Hier kommt die Sonne _

As the fire became more uncontrollable, you turned, and walked away. The five inside were on the ground, dead, but you couldn't care. It was either that, or live that hellish dream for real. You kept walking, unknowingly trailing the devil behind you as you did.

_Aus _


End file.
